Sunday, 16 October 2011

Naming the Void

The ropes are gone
Lost in a garden of wretched believers
And I, vigilante
Let my dreams soar
For a clear, white day.
Like a string less kite, departed leaf
Like a lonely wave
Washing your feet.

Only mere strings remain
And I, lost in a maze
Of vile beliefs
Pour labyrinth into my cup
Swallow it down the abyss.

And in the distance, as far
As the eye can see the grey
The box is undone
The walls are bare
The mirror is empty
For her reflection is gone.

And the threads, the threads, threads
The threads grow thinner still.

*awesome photo by Ipshita :)

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Home for Norah

I walked by the forgotten home
Of her youth
The wind sailing through broken windows
Beckoning the aged, blackened wood
To speak and sing.
I walked by ghosts and
Through the sun
Lighting a dead lamp with life
I took a page
Wet with yellow light and walls and
I wrote this down,
Not by the sweat on the brow
Of your weather-beaten blue eyes
That haunt your lovers and have
Seen too much but never enough.
Not by the river that flows
Through your skin, flooding with rage when it rains
Leaving lines of sand.
And not, by your wise hands that
Hold these green, breathing mountains
That rise and fall and make
Roads along the moon.
I will heal by the soles
Of your ashen feet
That mirror the land
You call home.

Across the Inch

The rains chase you away to shelter
Away from childhood
Away from puddles and all the children
Away from the promises
Of a rain swept road.
As we dry with our rhymes and our rants
With our lethal habits
With our music and all our secrets
With a fear of growing old.